Aslan's Footfalls
by BrokenKestral
Summary: The ground of Narnia itself welcomes Aslan's first footfall and the thaw from winter begins.


"For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God" (Romans 8:19-21).

Disclaimer: Narnia was Lewis' invention, and I don't believe he ever characterized it this way, so this is just a fan's playing with an idea that may or may not have been wise.

A/N: "We" in this is Narnia, not the world with its islands and other lands as a whole.

**Updated 03/13/2019 because Calyn caught a typo and some footfalls I'd forgotten. Thank you so, so much!**

OOOOO

Bound, bound, but not to sleep,  
Chains of ice, life to keep  
Driven under this land's mantle;  
Groans of pain chains don't dismantle.

Bound, bound—but then it breaks  
Life, e'en spring, in the Lion's wake;  
As from sea He comes at free  
The land He once sang into being.

Long, long ago, before Aslan sang the sun into the overarching sky, we felt his footfalls. He walked over us and sang. We heard his song and our mantle quivered in obedience, becoming green and living. He sang again, and others were birthed from us, others whose ran and walked and lived over our mantle. And deep within us his song created other living things, jewels that lived, chameleons that lived in our fires, and even funny little creatures that danced within our heart. After his song, life was everywhere.

But even as he sang, life came to us that he did not create. Four hooves, round, covered in metal stood firmly on us; and the footfalls of five creatures on their two legs stumbled and stood still. One stayed by the metal hooves. Two walked lightly, on small feet; they stayed together. Another of the footfalls was stuttering, uncertain—weak, after the life that had just poured out. But another was strong, firm, and dug into the earth with the intent to conquer, and we shuddered underneath it. So different from our Lord's heavy footfalls. Later we found that his paw prints in our mantle filled with water, giving life to a boy in need.

And the cruel conquering footfalls ran faster, digging into the new life, closer to our Lord, and paused—and a metal bar (it wasn't living) fell to the ground beside him. The metal sank into the song, and began to live—and the footfalls ran away in fear. Far, far, far, they ran for hours, still digging into us, till at last they were beyond our borders.

We thought it might be finished, then. But we felt, in the footprints dug into our land and marking it, a threat of return.

But our Lord knew the threat, and sent some of the new life that walked us away for a while—the two small light ones who stayed together, and the metal-covered hooves. Somehow they left without even touching our land. But when we felt the hooves again, landing near our Lord, a few moments later we felt a small thump, near one of the waters that ran merrily and cool through our mantle. And where something thumped, we felt a new life take root.

Deep, deep roots, that took a firm hold on us and grew through us a holiness that chased away the evil in the footprints, though not the marks themselves. And we rejoiced, and stretched towards the new sun, and so for hundreds of years we grew, and the life on us grew abundant too. We came to know the Sons of Earth that lived within our mountains, and the moles that made homes in our mantle, and the songs that caused tiny cloven hooves to dance in patterns on the grass above. Life fulfilled our Lord's command and became life to the full.

And the roots grew stronger, warmer, and deeper, and the shade from the branches welcomed all the life that came to it.

But all was not well. For at the edge of our land we felt the border grow colder and crueler, and only the deep roots of the tree kept the cold away. And little by little, we felt footsteps within us walk over that cold edge, and return with frost that burned the grass and caused warmth to wither. Some even changed, in shape and weight, as they drew in evil. They became monstrous. And one day—one horrible day, one day we wish had never happened, many of those cold footprints walked right up to the tree by the water, and we felt fire touch it. Fire, that cracked the trunk and consumed the branches, that took life and made it ash. And as the fire took the life of our protector, the coldest, cruelest footprints walked over the edge into our mantle. And so winter followed fire.

And it could not kill all the life that was in us, but it bound it to a sleep where waking was death and sleep was oblivion. Nothing grew on our mantle, and the footprints of all above us grew hurried and huddled and hopeless.

And we could do nothing. Within us fire still burned, but to loose it was to destroy what little life was left. We groaned under the touch of our new ruler. Her sled ran rivulets through our mantle, her people dug their claws into our crust, and even her reindeer beat marks of hopelessness on the little parts of us that weren't covered by her cold.

It lasted so, so long. Happiness made centuries a swift pleasure, but captivity made time into terror. With all our boulders, caves, and mountains, we longed for our Lord.

And then, one day, He came. He came from His Father's house, over the sea, and we felt the touch of His paw once again.

And the cold could not stand before Him, but melted away into lifegiving water. The ice wrapped around trees, binding life to a standstill, became the source of growth as it sank into limbs that stretched towards warmth. Deep in our mantle, spring bloomed.

Another step; spring spread further. Freed, we shook off our chains at His coming. All above us, the snow melted. And the sled in which she drove slowed to a standstill before the growing life, and even her footfalls could not leave threats. For the first footfall of the Lion was enough to guarantee her defeat. Life came with Him once more, and loosed the winter's chains.

OOOOO

Response to Guest's last comment on my story "Meeting the Legends"; if you read this story, my response is written here since I couldn't reply on the finished story; you are welcome to use my disclaimers. Thank you for not stealing the disclaimer about not stealing. :)


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